


It's Beginning to Snow

by Charming, spicycake



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Rare Pairings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 02:03:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charming/pseuds/Charming, https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicycake/pseuds/spicycake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>Written for the <a href="link">"A Bite Off Center"</a> Teen Wolf Rarepair Tropefest!:</b>
  <br/><i>Freshly out of his senior year at Berkeley, Isaac finds himself back in Beacon Hills in a ratty apartment with Scott and Stiles with an ever growing overdue rent payment. His degree in English isn’t doing him any favors in finding a job and the air is turning bitterly cold outside. The werewolf can’t find a way to be joyful about the Christmas season when eviction is seemingly eminent, but the computer programmer who stays in the apartment above theirs seems intent on trying anyways.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Beginning to Snow

Snow crunched under Isaac’s boots as he trudged up to the apartment building where he stayed with his two roommates and friends, Scott and Stiles. On some days, the other two guys were more friend than roommate, and on others, the opposite. And yet others, they were both or neither. Today was one of those days in which they were totally MIA, which was happening with more frequency than Isaac would have liked, especially at this time of year.

The apartment building itself wasn’t so bad: decent neighborhood, easy access to everywhere in Beacon Hills, acceptable neighbors. Even the decor was nice in that retro, art nouveau sort of way. Their actual apartment, on the other hand…

Two flights up, door on the left, and it was the only one that actually looked like it belonged in a completely different building. Scratches in random spots. Paint peeling a little around the lock and handle. The edges little eyehole had been covered over with tape from where it had been forcibly ripped out once. Of course, there were other features that weren’t part of the door every day but no less common: a yellow slip was taped to it.

Issac’s shoulders slumped as he heaved a deep sigh. Lips pressed firmly together, he didn’t even bother reading it before yanking it off the door. He already knew what it said.

“Guys…?” He entered the apartment, door creaking heavily like the hinges might give in the not-so-distant future. “We got another notice. Rent was due...nine days ago. Shit! Nine? Shit…GUYS.”

When no one immediately answered his call, Isaac walked around the apartment, checking each room, only to find it empty. He gritted his teeth and dug his cell phone out of his pocket to furiously text ‘where are you’ to both of his roommates.

No response. Typical.

His next sigh hung frostily in the air in front of him, and man, he knew they were trying to save on the gas and electricity bill, but it was 20-something degrees outside! The thermostat in the living room said it was only 39, but that was insane as far as Isaac was concerned. He turned it on and carefully edged the lever up to 65.

Nothing happened.

“Ffffffffff…” Pursing his lips and trying not to snarl, he made a circuit of the apartment, digging through old take-out boxes and computer printouts and books and dirty laundry--ew--attempting to find the most recent bill. He’d already stretched thin his October paycheck from writing pre-holiday catalog copy, but he’d be damned if he was going to freeze to death in the rattrap he currently called home.

He finally located the document inside an old pizza box, sharing space with some crusts Stiles hadn’t deigned to eat. $250. Ouch. October had been pretty mild, and it really only started getting cold in the middle of November, and...oh. Final Notice. Well, shit. Of course it had been turned off. 

Of course.

For all that Stiles was brilliant and Scott was loyal, neither of them could remember to pay a bill to save their lives. Good thing their lives weren’t exactly dependent upon that...as much as they wanted to be independent Scott and Stiles had parents to rescue them if the going got tough. Even if it cost them a lecture and some embarassment, they had an out. Isaac, meanwhile, needed someplace to live and food to eat and electricity and gas to keep him warm and cook the aforementioned food. Isaac supposed, technically, he could go out, hunt down a deer and eat it raw if things got absolutely dire -- but he didn’t want to do that! He wanted to be a human fucking being, not a wild animal!

And where the hell were his other friends, anyway? They had steady jobs and steady income, albeit entry-level. Maybe it was a mistake getting that English degree, but writing had been the only thing Isaac was ever really decent at, and he had landed a handful of good contract jobs writing copy for catalogs. Unfortunately, that work was so seasonal, and although his last contractors said they’d love to have him back for the spring, that work didn’t start until January, and holiday catalogs were completed in October, so what the hell was he supposed to do in between? He was not going back to digging graves in the middle of the night in between copywriting gigs.

Shaking his head, he pulled out his cell phone and carefully dialed the number for the gas and electric company. Man, he really hoped he didn’t have to pay a deposit on top of the overdue amount.

“Hi, I’m trying to pay a bill, but the automated service won’t let me? … Well, I mean, yeah, it...it’s been turned off, but… … I mean, can’t I just--I can just pay it, right? … No, it’s...it’s in my roommate’s name. … Can you just let me pay the bill, please? … No, I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be rude. I just want to pay the bill so the heat can be turned on. … Look, I just don’t want to freeze to death. It’s, like, 20 degrees outside. … Okay. Thank you. The account number is 00159054877…”

***

Two hours later, the heat was back on at a low but decidedly more comfortable 63 degrees, and Isaac had managed to make a beautifully steaming pot of ramen noodles, which he was eating directly from the pot because why the fuck not? The apartment was already a sty, so it could stay that way until he finished eating at the very least. And maybe, just maybe, he’d think about how else to pay rent while he was cleaning. He didn’t have anything better to do anyway.

While he’d been waiting for the power to be turned back on, he’d received text responses from both Stiles and Scott. Stiles had sent a simple single word--”busy”--which meant he was working on actual work and probably fixing some desk jockey’s computer. On the other hand, Scott had sent a bunch of short texts about Allison and a lunch date and how that was turning into dinner with her dad and blah, blah, blah. They were really good friends, they were, but after six years, Isaac didn’t want to hear about Allison and dinner dates with her dad. Sure, they got to friend levels way back then; it didn’t mean Isaac wanted to hear anymore baby talk or cooing or slobbering… Ugh. Please, stop.

He’d only replied to both of them with a short phrase: “rent is due NOW.” Neither of them had responded to that text.

A soft thumping sound overhead drew Isaac’s attention upward, preternaturally-keen ears focusing onto the noises. Danny Mahealani had moved into one of the really nice top-floor apartments directly over theirs. Judging by the sounds coming from his apartment, he’d just got home from work. Keys on the counter. Refrigerator opening...and closing. Carton of milk or juice set down on the counter. Glass. Poured. Refrigerator again. Footsteps across the apartment and fading out into what Isaac assumed was the other guy’s bedroom, over Stiles’ room. He wondered what Danny’s apartment looked like. Was it nice? Clean? Classy? He bet it was awesome. It had to be. It was Danny’s, and even as kids in high school Danny always had everything together.

Everything...except his taste in boyfriends. Danny dated a lot of cheaters, from what Isaac could recall. Except for Ethan, and they’d gone their separate ways during college. Brilliant, talented Danny had gone to Stanford. Ethan had no thoughts of college and ended up disappearing for long stretches of time with his twin brother Aiden. Eventually, Ethan sent Danny a Dear John letter and stayed gone. At least that’s what he’d heard from Stiles, who’d heard it from Scott, who’d heard it from Allison, who’d heard it from Lydia. It was all very stupid.

The shower in Danny’s bathroom went on, and Isaac continued his focus for another minute or so before leaving his neighbor to his privacy. Was he pathetic and possibly a creeper for eavesdropping on Danny? Totally. Did he care? Not in the slightest. A character based on Danny was the star in a story he’d started writing in a Moleskine notebook like he was trying to be Ernest Hemingway. It was for...research. Yes, research.

Eavesdropping session over, Isaac finished his ramen fairly quickly after that, and thus began the tedious chore of cleaning the apartment, dubbed “Casa de McLahelinski” by Stiles. Scott thought that was neat. Isaac preferred “the apartment”. Stiles found that boring. Isaac thought Stiles’ portmanteaus were ridiculous. Scott just wanted everyone to get along. Same old, same old.

He stood in the middle of the apartment between the living room, dining area, and kitchen with his hands on his hips, surveying the area. They were slobs, no question about it. He didn’t even know where to start, but he decided the kitchen was as good as any, although he questioned that decision the moment he found a bowl filled with moldy...something. Whatever it was, he didn’t even bother trying to salvage the bowl. Into the trash it went.

Isaac was definitely taking a nap after this.

***

Eyelids heavy with sleep and a bit sticky, Isaac squinted around the dimly lit living room, looking for the source of the noise that awakened him. The television cast a soft bluish glow, providing the only light for the room, but didn’t reveal whatever was causing that knocking sound. Knocking...oh!

Wiping the drool off the corner of his mouth, he stumbled towards the front door, leaving the chain in place as he cracked it open to look out. “Oh--hey…” Even backlit by the hallway, Danny’s angular face was unmistakable, dark eyes calm as he cracked a vague smile. 

“Hi, Isaac, um…” Danny shifted his weight between his feet for a moment, tapping some envelopes in one hand against his other one. “The mailman stuck some of your mail in my box by accident, so…here.” He extended the mail tentatively toward the crack in the door.

“Oh… wow, thanks -- ah, wait a second--.” Isaac shut the door just shy of an envelope’s corner, rattling the chain out of its catch and opening the door wide. “Sorry.” He shifted awkwardly with a crooked smile, taking the mail to sift through it in front of Danny. “Christmas cards for...everybody but me, and...bills, which we don’t need more of...and...junk. Great. But, um… Thanks. You know, for bringing it by.” He offered him another awkward smile.

“Sure.” Turning away towards the stairs, Danny took a few steps before stopping and approaching Isaac again. “Hey, listen, uh… Mr. Rogers stopped by earlier, since he knows I know you guys. Said something about the rent…?”

Isaac grimaced and ran his free hand through his mop of curls. “Yeah, we’re, um…late. Again. Scott and Stiles have the money, they’re just…”

“Scott and Stiles?”

“I was going to say ‘unreliable and busy’, but...yeah.”

A pregnant silence hung heavy between them for a long moment before Danny broke it bluntly. “...You know he’s going to have to evict you if you don’t get him the rent pretty quick.”

“...Yeah. I know.” Reality check. Awesome.

“I mean, if you want, I could...loan you--”

“No! I mean… No, thank you. We have the money, just…”

“Just Scott and Stiles.”

“Yeah. They’re just...never around anymore, you know? And I can’t cover it myself until my contract stuff starts coming in again, but…” Isaac waved a hand through the air as if tossing nothing up into it, then let it drop onto his head to scratch restlessly through nap-mussed hair. “Whatever. It’s the holidays, and everybody is busy when they’ve got something to do and someplace to be, which both of them have in abundance like...like…”

“Like Lydia has boyfriends and clothes?”

“Exactly. Anyway...” Sighing, Isaac offered Danny another lopsided smile and gestured with the mail. “Thanks for the mail. And...thanks for the talk. See you around.”

“Yeah. No problem. Um… Happy holidays.”

“You, too.”

Isaac watched Danny walk away and up the stairs until he was out of his line of sight before quietly shutting the door and locking it again. Leaning against it, he dropped his head back with a dull thud on the mostly solid wood, confident he must seem like the biggest loser in the world..

***

When Isaac awoke the next morning, he saw nothing. Blinking rapidly in a panic, he felt for his eyes, and instead of flesh, his fingers met paper. He furiously ripped the paper from his eyes and gave them a moment to adjust, bewildered and startled. 

Pay to the order of….what?

At some point between the time he went to be and the time he woke up, Scott and/or Stiles had come home and taped two checks to his face. Two checks written for exactly half the amount of their rent each. Isaac caught his breath, swallowing as he blinked again at the scrawled numbers. They were paying the entire rent?

His face broke into an astonished grin, letting out a jubilant laugh. He wasn’t going to be out on the street by Christmas after all! 

He felt a welcome pang of guilt for selling Scott and Stiles short as he rolled out of bed -- and immediately tumbled to the floor, toes stubbed and knees bruised. Looking for what he tripped over, he saw a pair of his shoes sitting neatly beside his bed. His brow knit into a small, confused frown. He didn’t remember leaving his shoes there.

From the floor, he noticed another pair of his shoes lined up a couple of feet away. Then another. Then another. Clearly, he was meant to follow these shoes…

...Right into the bathroom. Where someone--probably Stiles, in Isaac’s humble opinion--had written all over the mirror in shaving cream: “MERRY CHRISTMAS ISAAC”.

Guilt? Vanished. Guess who was going to be cleaning it up. Not Stiles or Scott, that was for sure. Still, it was a hell of a Christmas gift to pay his share of the rent; that meant he could use his savings on slightly better holiday gifts for them. Well, some of it, anyway. He’d really like to eat something other than ramen during December.

After wiping away the message (accompanied by several choice expletives when he realized they’d used his own shaving cream), Isaac started up the shower and jumped in as soon as it felt warm enough to the touch. The rent checks stayed at the forefront of his mind while he scrubbed himself clean, and practicality began to rear its boring head. Truly, as nice as the gesture was, it would’ve been nicer if the rent had been paid on time instead of nine days late and after their landlord had thought to tape an eviction warning to their door. It was just humiliating to have this be an issue every month.

Maybe it made him ungrateful to think about it like that, but he’d just paid their entire gas and electric bill after al. His roommates technically kind of owed him for that, but he supposed he’d let it slide. Isaac snickered to himself in the shower. Maybe that could be his Christmas present to them! 

Shaking his head, he concentrated again on showering and the rent checks themselves. He’d take them to the landlord as soon as he was clean, and then everything would be perfect.

***

“You’re kicking us out?!” Isaac’s voice echoed stridently in the downstairs lobby, where he stood outside the landlord’s office door. “Mr. Rogers, you can’t be serious. It’s Christmas!”

“No, no, I’m not kicking you out, not at this exact moment. But yeah, I might! If you don’t have next month’s rent ready on the first of the month like you’re supposed to, you three guys are out, you hear me? This isn’t some kind of boho musical where a magic drag queen’s gonna show up with a wad of cash and solve all your problems!” The landlord jabbed a finger at Isaac’s chest for emphasis. “There’s plenty of people out there who’d be happy to pay me rent when it’s due. And no amount of begging with your cutesy-pie angel face is going to change that. Merry Christmas, ho ho ho and all that stuff...”

The door slammed in his face, and Isaac stood there on the landing, completely shocked. Obviously, the management was done with leeway and grace periods. Although he couldn’t really blame the guy, what kind of thing was that to say to someone during the holidays? People are supposed to be nicer at this time of year.

And more to the point, weren’t people named Mr. Rogers supposed to be the kindest and most neighborly people in the world? Obviously, this one didn’t get the memo.

Isaac’s nail beds tingled, budding claws digging into his palm as he raised a fist to punch it through Mr. Rogers’ door -- but at the last moment, he pulled his punch and let his arm fall limply at his side, jaw clenched. What good would busting his door down do? It’d probably just get them kicked out today instead of next month when Scott and Stiles inevitably forgot to be accountable again.

Eyes downcast, he slowly made his way back upstairs, slamming the door and flopping onto the couch with an arm over his eyes. Isaac didn’t want to think about anything, but the thoughts came anyway. He needed another job. Occasional catalog jobs weren’t cutting it. Even if he had to bag groceries, it’d be money. Maybe some store needed seasonal help or something.

Jesus, he really didn’t want to have to do that. A job was a job, but he’d worked his ass off to get A’s at Berkeley! He’d be damned if he was going to waste his degree on being a bagger at a grocery store.

But he’d be wasting his degree even more if he had no place to live. It wasn’t as if he could just move back home either. He didn’t really have one of those anymore, and he certainly wasn’t going to ask Scott’s mom to take him back in, especially since Scott would probably have to do the same thing if they got kicked out.

This was the crummiest holiday season ever.

***

For the second day in a row, Isaac woke up to the sound of someone knocking on his door. And surprisingly enough, for the second day in a row, it was Danny -- this time holding a pizza and a six-pack of Dr. Pepper. Isaac looked over his shoulder at a clock. It was only 1:30 in the afternoon. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“Our office is moving buildings today, so they let us take the rest of the day.” Danny held up the pizza box and shook it lightly. “I thought maybe we could do lunch. Um, if you’re not busy, that is.”

“With me?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, everyone else I know is at work--”

Isaac nodded with a grimace. “And I’m not, so…”

Danny rolled his eyes, looking a little sheepish. “Okay, I didn’t mean that like it sounded, first of all, and secondly, you didn’t let me finish.”

“I’m sorry. Please continue.”

“Thank you. Like I was saying, everyone else I know is at work, and I could’ve gone to lunch with my coworkers, but I thought it’d be more fun to maybe hang out with you and…” Danny trailed off, shrugging a little. “I don’t know. We could watch movies or play video games or whatever.” How was it somebody could look so confident and hesitant at once?

“You...just want to hang out with me?” Isaac bit his bottom lip as he watched Danny dance around. It was cute. Really cute. “Wait, I mean, you’re a tech guy, right? Shouldn’t you be helping with the move?”

“I’m a computer programmer, not a tech guy.”

“What’s the difference?”

“About $15,000 a year.”

“Ah.” Jesus. What Isaac wouldn’t give for $15,000 right now!

“So… Are you interested in having lunch with me, or are you going to make me eat this by myself?”

A shy grin spread over Isaac’s face. “Okay. Um, but let’s go to your place because… This place isn’t really… Well…”

“No problem! My place is totally fine.” Danny’s grin matched Isaac’s, and he bounced once in place. “So come on...”

***

“...They taped the checks to your face? How did you manage to sleep through someone taping something to your face?”

“I… I’m a heavy sleeper?”

“Uh, obviously!” Danny laughed and turned his attention back to the movie playing on his massive flat-screen television.

Isaac rolled his eyes, giving Danny’s shoulder an ineffectual shove as he turned back to the TV. Just as he’d suspected, Danny’s apartment was perfect. Everything was stylish and perfectly placed, from his living room seating down to the magazines left on the kitchen bar counter as if he’d just tossed them there, and they fanned out appealingly. Everything was clean. Everything smelled nice. Isaac could hardly believe it was in the same building as the one he shared with Scott and Stiles.

“Anyway… Then I went to pay the rent, but Mr. Rogers said we have to pay next month’s on the first, or he’s kicking us out, so…” He tried to say it as nonchalantly as possible, but he could feel Danny’s eyes on him all at once, staring. Maybe he should have left that part out.

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” Isaac didn’t want to look at Danny. He didn’t want to see his pity or, worse, his disgust or disappointment. God, he shouldn’t have said anything, but Danny was the one who’d asked about the rent situation, and Isaac had never been one to just keep his mouth shut when he was comfortable. “I mean, Stiles and Scott will both have their shares, but… I don’t know. I guess I’ll see if any of the stores around here need help for the holiday season. I can...fake Christmas cheer. Or something.”

“It’s no fun if you have to fake it.” 

Finally, those eyes slid off of him and Isaac let out a silent breath. “Well, whatever pays the bills, you know?”

Danny just nodded and seemed to go off into his own thoughts while refocusing on the movie. Isaac, on the other hand, just felt stupid. Useless and lame and stupid. Here he was, sitting on a really nice couch in a really nice apartment and eating gourmet pizza with a guy who was basically the definition of perfect, and what gave him the right? He was a dead-end joke with no future and probably going to be homeless on top of that in less than a month if he couldn’t convince someone to hire him to do anything at all. Isaac Lahey was the kind of guy that the Dannys of the world felt sorry for.

But it was Danny who finally broke the silence. “So what kind of writing do you do? Is it just...for catalogs, or…?”

“Pretty much anything they’re willing to pay me for. My BA is in English, but… I mostly did creative writing, so… Yeah. Whatever anyone will pay me to do.”

“You know anything about writing instructions or manuals?”

“I took a Technical Writing elective. Got an ‘A’.” Isaac paused. “Actually, I helped some of the electrical engineering guys write a manual for their senior project.”

“Yeah? Huh. Good to know…”

***

For the next three days, Isaac got up, dressed nicely, and then went out into the snow in search of any kind of nearby work he could scrape up. He’d never heard the word “sorry” so many times in all of his life. After five more pride-swallowing hours on the third day, he returned to the apartment, his head full of rejection. The weekend and today were an utter wash.

He could’ve looked on the bright side. There was always tomorrow and venturing further away from home yet still within walking distance. And then he could always take public transportation. Right now, however, he just instinctively wanted to curl up in a ball and stay that way forever.

Fuck the holidays. Seriously.

His eyes slid over to the clock on the microwave. Almost 6. Danny would be home soon, and Isaac could indulge in a little daydreaming as he listened to his neighbor putter around his apartment overhead.

Part of him wanted to hit himself for focusing so creepily on Danny. Just because Isaac found him completely fascinating didn’t mean Danny wanted any of the attention. After all, the other man had fed him, watched movies with him, and seemed to want to be friends a little, which was way more than Isaac felt he deserved. Who deserved Mr. Perfect anyway?

But he figured as long as he kept it to himself and didn’t act out on his stalkerish tendencies any further than eavesdropping on him, it wasn’t so bad. What stayed in Isaac’s head wouldn’t hurt anybody, right?

At least he had last Friday. The morning hadn’t been so hot, but then he’d spent the rest of the day hanging out with Danny in his apartment, and he learned that Danny was basically the ideal person. Kind, smart, stylish, witty, gorgeous. Just...perfect. He felt lucky Danny even acknowledged his existence.

Hearing someone going up the stairs, Isaac checked the clock again. It was about the right time for Danny to be coming home. He grinned as he made himself comfortable on the couch and closed his eyes, listening to him go through his daily routine through the ceiling. Everything went normally until the part where Danny normally got into the shower--and Isaac stopped listening--and, instead, he was leaving again.

“Damn,” Isaac cursed under his breath aloud. He’d really been looking forward to cheering himself up.

The footsteps coming down the stairs didn’t make it past the apartment door, and Isaac almost jumped when there was knocking. Did Danny need something?

Quickly, he moved over to the door and threw it open to find Danny standing there mid-knock. Isaac sheepishly scrubbed a hand through his curly locks. “Uh, hi. Sorry. Um… What’s--what’s up, Danny?”

“I was just going to go get some dinner, and I thought I’d see if...maybe you’d want to come?.”

“Um, yeah, sure! Just, uh… I’ll get my coat.” Isaac knew he probably looked over-eager, but it was dinner with Danny. Another meal and more time to spend with someone who’d rapidly become his favorite person. How could he not be eager about that?

Locking up the apartment, Isaac followed Danny out into the night, snow falling very lightly, almost like a mist. They walked close together not really saying anything, arms occasionally brushing and shoulders bumping just a bit. It felt both comfortable and awkward at the same time. “So… How was work today?”

“It was okay. I mean… We’re still kind of hammering things out from the move over the weekend.”

“Yeah? Did they get your stuff moved right?”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t have a lot of stuff to move, but… There was a little drama.”

Isaac grinned and dared a glance over at Danny, eyes instantly attracted to those adorable dimples of his. God, he was cute. “Yeah? What happened?”

“So, Trina--she’s the manager of Accounts Receivable--has been dating Mark in Branding for, like, the last couple of months or something, but nobody knew about it. And she has a really similar last name to our receptionist, Rebecca. So, because of that, their boxes got switched, and Trina saw a bunch of sexy notes to Rebecca from Mark. Trina went nuts on Mark in front of everybody.”

“Oh, my god, are you serious?”

“Totally serious,” Danny snickered. “Turns out Mark was seeing a couple of other people on the side as well.”

“What a dick! ”

“Right? And I’m pretty sure Mark got fired today.”

“How come?”

“Uh, because he’s a scumbag and nobody likes him?”

“Good reason.”

“Hey, speaking of work… How’s the job hunt going?”

“Oh! Well… It’s… It’s going. If, you know, if...’going’ means...down the toilet.” Isaac directed his eyes at the glistening sidewalk, lightly dusted with the newly falling snow. “I just don’t have any experience...doing anything else, you know? When one lady asked me what my degree was in, and I told her English, she just apologized to me like she was sorry for my loss. What the hell is that, even?”

“That’s pretty harsh. What kind of job was it?”

“Cashier at Mrs. Fields.”

“Oh.”

“She said I was overqualified anyway, so… I guess it didn’t matter what my degree was in.”

“Probably. Hey, listen…” Danny grabbed Isaac’s arm just enough to stop him and pull him to one side of the walkway next to a shop. “So… I was talking to our recruiter, and -- I mean, if you’re interested -- there might be a job there for you.”

Isaac’s jaw dropped open, and he craned his neck to study Danny’s face, looking for any trace of a joke. “Are you kidding? I mean… Really?”

“Really. It’s...a tech writing position. It’s not creative or even really that fun. You’d be doing really boring stuff like writing manuals and procedurals, but… It’s a writing job. And I’ll totally recommend you for it.”

“Would I…? Would I have to...know stuff about what I’m writing about?”

“No, no. It’s… It’s just given to you, and you have to make sense of it, so… What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Suddenly reaching forward, Isaac pulled Danny into a tight hug. “I’ll apply tomorrow, first thing! Oh, my god, Danny, I don’t even know what to say--”

Isaac could feel Danny’s surprised laugh. “--Just say ‘thank you’!”

He released the other man with an embarrassed but happy grin. “Thank you, Danny. This… This chance means a lot.”

“You’re welcome.” Danny fidgeted in place, shifting his weight between his feet again.

The grin never left Isaac’s face as he stood there, hands shoved into his pockets as he tilted his closed eyes up to the sky to try and steady himself. A real job prospect! Finally! Just when he was thinking the holidays were bullshit, tiny miracles seemed to be happening all around him.

He opened his eyes back up. There was Danny’s face. Bemused, eyes narrowed with smile lines, snowflakes melting in his black hair. Suddenly shy, Isaac averted his gaze to the window display of the store they’d stopped in front of, and he properly turned to look in. An extensive frozen pond scene spread out on the display area, with tiny deer and ice skaters and horses pulling a bell-trimmed sleigh. Tons of snow and tiny Christmas trees. Even Santa and his reindeer flew overhead, little twinkling lights trailing behind them.

“Man, they really decked out this window…” Isaac looked at the window itself then and noticed the garland lining the entire thing on the outside. Fingering some of the leaves, he smirked slightly. “Could they fit anymore mistletoe out here--?.”

The next thing he knew, there was a sudden closeness and a warm press of lips against his cheek. Isaac turned sharply to Danny, blue eyes going wide. Had Danny just kissed him? It was on the cheek and all, but… “Why did you do that?”

The other male just shrugged, shifting his weight again like he’d been doing so much around Isaac lately, but his body was tense -- careful. “There’s...mistletoe. That’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“...Oh. Right.”

“And…” Danny bit his lip, looking at the ground for a moment, seemingly trying to puzzle something out. “And I just want to see you smile. Because you deserve to. No one should be unhappy during the holidays, especially not you.”

A giddy laugh bubbled up in Isaac’s throat. There was no way this was real. He was going to wake up any moment now with some old classic holiday movie playing on the TV in his crappy living room. “So you’re just...trying to put me in the holiday spirit?”

“Well, not just that…” More fidgeting. “I think you’re great. I mean, we’ve known each other for years, not that well, I know, and with all the -- stuff. That happened. Back then.” Had Danny ever sounded quite this flustered in his life? “But I like you. God, that sounds so juvenile, but...and, I mean, it’s okay if you don’t...like me the same way. I’m...kind of used to that.”

Isaac didn’t know how it happened, but his lips were on Danny’s the moment he finished speaking, gloved hands gripping the other man’s shoulders lightly. He must’ve taken him by surprise because it took a few moments for Danny’s arms to move around him. But they did. And then Danny was kissing him back. Lips catching, breathless and daring...hesitantly, then firmly, then carefully again, tapering off until they were just standing there in the snow, with their arms wrapped around each other, leaning their foreheads together with equally incredulous smiles.

Danny looked up at him then, grinning shyly. “Merry Christmas, Isaac…”

“Merry Christmas, Danny…” Isaac grinned back. The holiday spirit wasn’t looking so impossible after all.

END

**Author's Note:**

> VERY special thanks to my best friend, roommate, editor and #1 beta reader Charming, who didn't sign up for this, but ended up dragging me through a really lousy summer cold and a bout of ship-wrecking ennui and as such deserves due credit as co-author. This wouldn't have gotten done without her!


End file.
